Awakenings
by angelsinstead
Summary: After Olivia Godfrey's death, Roman tries to make sense of his life. Peter has shocking news to share with Roman.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This story will be a series of drabbles and short chapters based off characters from Netflix's Hemlock Grove. I don't own Netflix, Hemlock Grove, or the characters. This was written for entertainment only_

_Warning: This story will contain subject matter in which some readers may find offensive. It will have some content that you may find upsetting or disturbing. Please read at your own risk!_

_Also, this story is AU and starts off at the ending of Season I with a few variations. It isn't exactly like canon. This is my spin on the tale. There will be several pairings. Happy reading!_

******~*~Chapter One~*~**

Roman rushed up the steps to the attic, crushing the fabric against his chest. He had to clean the mess up, but he didn't know how. So much blood. It stained the walls and the floor of the once beautiful room which had been his sister's.

Shelley. His Shelley; his sweet, disfigured sister. She was lost to him now, too.

*I must make my heart steel,* he was thinking as he entered the attic and stood over the still, fallen form of his mother.

So much blood. It appeared she was bathed in it. He dropped the bedspread he'd been holding against his chest. Wordlessly, he wrapped her in it. So much blood; but not all of it was hers.

After he had his mother wrapped tight in the bedspread, he walked down two flights of stairs and carried her outside to his car. He dropped her lifeless body into the trunk. As he closed the trunk, one thought kept whispering through his mind. *I must make my heart steel.* That's what Shelley had said.

He climbed behind the wheel of the car and drove several blocks to the Godfrey Institute. As he gazed up at the great white tower, he felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He hadn't cried since his mother had told him the news. He wouldn't cry now. His heart felt like cold, unbreakable steel. Nothing could shatter it now. Nothing at all.

He lifted his mother's body from the trunk of the car and carried it up the steep steps to the double glass doors. A couple of the guards met him in the foyer. "Mr. Godfrey, what-?" one of them asked.

"Go get Dr. Pryce. Now," Roman demanded.

"I don't think..."

"Just do it!" Roman yelled urgently.

The guards didn't argue. One rushed off for a gurney and the other summoned Dr. Pryce. Mere minutes later, Dr. Pryce had arrived in the foyer.

"What's this?" he asked as he looked at Olivia's pale, lifeless body as it lay upon the gurney.

"My mother," Roman said as he stated the obvious. "She's dead. And I need you to properly dispose of her."

"Wh - what happened?" the doctor asked with caution.

"She finally met her bitter end. Now just take care of her. I never wanna see her again," Roman spoke.

He then glanced over at the elevator, contemplating fourteen stories above; the maternity ward. The sudden urge to say goodbye caused a terrible lump to grow inside his throat. If he could just hold her in his arms once more... if he could just tell her he was sorry...

But no. She was gone now... and he had to go. He had to find Norman. Yes, he had to speak to Norman now. He had so much to tell him. "I gotta go," said Roman as he turned on his heel. "Take care of her."

He rushed out the double doors and headed down the steps to his car. He slid behind the wheel as a single tear rushed down his cheek. He wiped it away with anger. After all, he had a heart made of steel.

~*~o~*~

Dr. Pryce stared at the body of Olivia Godfrey as it lay cold and lifeless upon the gurney. "What will we do with her?" asked one of the guards.

It had been a busy night at the Institute. The double doors had opened and closed many times during the course of the night. Now, in the wee hours of the morning, Dr. Pryce was dead on his feet. It had all started with the loss of a dear, sweet patient. He had done everything to save the girl, but she had perished at his hands.

*You can't save them all,* he thought as he looked at the body of Olivia Godfrey.

"Take her upstairs," he said to the guards. "We'll certainly make room for this one."

~*~o~*~

Roman sat in the car, his head in his hands as the sun was rising. *I've got to find Norman,* he was thinking. As he started his vehicle, his cell phone rang.

He reached for his phone and brought it to his ear. "What do you want?" he asked as he knew it was Peter on the other end.

"Roman, I need you over here. It's important," Peter said urgently.

"What's important?" Roman asked. "I can't come over now. I have to find find Norman. I need to talk to him."

"No, you have to get over here."

"What's this about?" Roman demanded.

"It's about Letha. Get over here... NOW."

With those words, Peter had ended the call. Roman sat there staring at his phone as the sun rose in the sky. His heart was bleeding. Perhaps there was a crack in his heart of steel after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**~*~Chapter Two~*~**

"Dammit!" Roman groaned as he tossed his cell phone aside in anger. He needed to talk to Norman, but Peter had insisted that he come over right away. He didn't feel like talking to Peter. No... not now; the pain of their loss was entirely too raw.

The tires of his 1971 Jaguar squealed as he drove away from the Godfrey Institute. On route to Peter's, he approached Norman's residence and nearly stopped. A light was on in the living room. Most likely Norman and Marie had been up all night. How could they possibly sleep when their hearts had been ripped to pieces?

"Fuck it!" Roman screamed as he kept on driving. He would talk to Peter and see what he wanted, then he would go back and speak to Norman. After Norman heard the truth, Roman was certain that he'd hate him forever. It didn't really matter. He hated himself far more than Norman ever could.

He parked his car on the road near the old run-down trailer park where Peter lived with his mother. He took the crumbling wooden steps two-by-two as he approached the ramshackle trailer which had been spray-painted with various obscenities. "Gypsy Trash" and "Goddamn Werewolf" were among the scrawled, bold-face graffiti.

Roman's hand was trembling as he knocked on Peter's door. Only a moment passed when Peter opened the door. "You came," he said softly.

"I'm here," Roman said as he stepped inside the crowded living room which contained a kitchen table, couch, a couple of over-stuffed chairs, and various other furniture.

"What... What did you want?" Roman asked as he shifted his feet. He really wanted to go. He didn't want to talk ... and seeing Peter's eyes which were bright-red and swollen from crying made him want to flee and never return.

"It's about Leetha."

"What about Leetha?" Roman asked as the lump in his throat grew. It grew and grew until it nearly burst. He thought he might choke on it.

"I went back to the Institute... after - after we both left. I wanted... I wanted to say good-bye. I went back to the maternity ward... the fourteen floor. I- I just wanted to hold her in my arms."

"Did you?" Roman asked.

"No," Peter said. He visibly winced. "Something stopped me."

"What was it?" Roman wished Peter would just spit it out. He didn't feel like playing Twenty Questions at the moment. In fact, he was struggling just to breathe.

"Dr. Pryce stopped me... before - before I went into that room... that room where they took her; the room where she died. He stopped me before I could tell her goodbye. He said he had something to show me."

Roman tensed. What the hell? It was apparent that Dr. Pryce was conducting all sorts of frightening medical experiments at the Institute. What exactly did the "good" doctor want Peter to see?

"What was it?" Roman demanded. "And what does this have to do with Letha?"

Peter walked across the floor and approached a small box upon the nearby table. He picked up a tiny bundle from within the box very carefully. He cradled it gently against his chest.

"This is Letha's child, Roman," Peter said as he carried the infant to Roman and placed the little one in Roman's arms.

"Ohhh no," was all Roman could choke out as he stared at the baby in shock.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked when he saw that Roman's expression had become one of horror.

"Letha - Letha's baby. It wasn't an angel. It wasn't an angel who - who got her pregnant," Roman revealed.

"Then who was it?" questioned Peter.

"It was me."


	3. Chapter 3

**~*~Chapter Three~*~**

"What does that mean- it was you?!" Peter demanded. "What the hell does that mean?!"

"It means that I am the angel... the angel who came to Letha; the one who got her pregnant."

"No... no," Peter said in a growl. "It couldn't be you. It couldn't be!"

The baby in Roman's arms was startled by the grating sounds of their voices. He found himself laying the child back in the box on the table which was lined with bath towels. He was trembling from head to toe as he turned around and looked at Peter.

"You've seen what I can do - the mind control. My mother was able to do it, too, yet hers was even stronger. She used it on me. She forced me to appear in the form of an angel in Letha's bedroom. She knew I loved her. She knew..."

Tears stung at Roman's eyes as it all came pouring out. "I can't believe I hurt her. I LOVED her. I loved her so much... and I-I raped her," he said in a sob.

At first Peter wanted to kill Roman; tear him apart with his bare hands, but when he heard the whole story and how Olivia, Roman's mother was involved, his anger started to dissipate. It became abundantly clear that Roman, too, was a victim in his mother's sick and twisted game.

Peter shook his head. "No. No, you didn't," he said quietly. "I know it wasn't rape. I know... because I know Letha..."

"She talked about the angel fondly. She wasn't afraid. I would have known if she was afraid. Letha was never afraid. If you had raped her, there would have been fear... fear when I touched her."

"I remember her screaming... when we- when I..."

"Is that all you remember?"

"I can only remember bits and pieces. I don't remember everything," Roman said as he clutched his head. The memories hurt his head, but his heart was little more than a tangled mess. "I killed her. I killed Letha."

"No, you didn't kill her. The blame lies with your mother."

"Yes. When she told me ... when she revealed what she made me do, I pulled out a razor blade and I ... did this..." Roman said as he revealed the dark pink scars which marred his arms from wrist to shoulder. "I didn't want to live knowing I had hurt Letha."

Peter stared at the wounds which were deep but already sealed over. He waited for Roman to tell the rest of his story. "There was blood... a LOT of blood. It swept across the floor... shaped itself along the wall; in the form of an angel," Roman recalled. "When the blood seeped out, I died. Minutes later, I was reborn."

"I awakened and I was stronger. I knew I had the power to defeat her," Roman said. "I did what I had to do... and the evil bitch who made me hurt Letha didn't win."

"You killed her?" asked Peter.

Roman nodded as he recounted his mother's death. "No loss," he said under his breath. "Now I gotta find Norman. I need to... talk to him."

Roman turned as if to go, but Peter stopped him. "Roman, don't go. You have to help me. You have to help me care for Letha's baby," Peter insisted. "Letha's gone... and the baby doesn't have anyone. She's tiny and defenseless... and we're all she has. You're- you're her father. If Letha had lived, I would have helped raised her. Letha and I were planning to getting married."

"You were marrying Letha?" Roman asked, his chest aching as if all the breath had been knocked from it.

"I loved her, Roman," Peter said simply.

"I loved her, too... so much. This all is... killing me," Roman said sadly.

He didn't want to cry anymore but his eyes were encircled in red. He looked over longingly at the box containing the baby, but intense fear stopped him. "Come on, Roman. She needs us," Peter coaxed. He walked over to the box and lifted the tiny bundle into his arms. "This child is a part of Letha. She's all we have left of her."

Roman set his gaze on the little one in Peter's embrace. The child's gaze was locked to his. She was staring at him with haunting blue eyes. In that moment, Roman realized she had Letha's eyes.

_"I wonder what color her eyes will be," Letha had said to him._

"I don't know," Roman responded as he gave her a ride home in his car. "But you're her mother, so I am sure she will be beautiful."

"Do you realize you just called her a girl?"

"Do you think it's a girl?" Roman asked.

"Probably, but my parents don't like to talk about her. They just don't believe me," Letha said in a sad voice.

"About... how you became pregnant? About the angel?"

"Yeah. They think something else happened. My dad thinks I was raped."

Roman took his eyes off the road as his gaze snapped to Letha's. "Were you?" he questioned.

She shook her head. "No, it wasn't like that," she spoke softly. "It wasn't like that at all."

Roman let out a heavy sigh. All the tension left him slowly. He reached for the child to cuddle her. He held her in the crook of as his arm as he gazed at her tiny face. "I don't know the first thing about taking care of baby," he said to Peter. "What will we do with it?"

"Hell if I know," answered Peter. "I guess we just feed it and love it."

In that moment, Roman looked absolutely terrified. "I don't have a crib... or diapers ... or any of those things. What are we supposed to feed it?"

"We should stop by the store and buy some diapers and everything else she needs. And we shouldn't call her an 'it.' She's a little girl... and she has a name."

"She does?" Roman asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Letha thought she was having a girl... so she had a little girl's name picked out for her. Her name is Cassandra Marie," Peter stated. "That's what Letha would have wanted."

"Hello, Cassandra Marie," Roman said to the baby in his arms. "I'm Roman... and I am your father."

The baby in his arms gurgled as if she approved of the name choice. "Let's get her home," Roman said. "I need your help with her. I need you to move into the mansion."

"I couldn't leave my mom."

"She's welcome to live at the mansion as well. She can look after the baby while we are in school," Roman offered. "It isn't safe for you here. Not after what happened."

Peter thought about the men who had came to the house and had trashed the trailer. They had spray-painted their home with obscenities and threatened his mother's life. Peter knew it was just a matter of time before they came back to destroy everything that was dear to him.

"I'll go with you," Peter agreed. "Just let me grab my things."

Peter's 'things' consisted of a cardboard box of odds and ends and a duffle bag filled with clothing. Peter collected his worldly goods and announced he was ready. He left a note for his mom and they departed.

After a quick stop at a convenience store to get a few items for the baby, they arrived at the Godfrey mansion. As Roman pulled in the drive, Peter was holding Cassandra. "This is your home, Baby Cass," Peter said to the baby. "There's no need to worry, because the wicked, scary lady who used to live here is gone forever."

"She won't be hurting anyone anymore," Roman spoke as he parked the vehicle.

After they went inside, Peter got Cassandra settled as Roman read the directions on a can of formula. "Do you think she's hungry?" Roman asked as he began to make a bottle.

"I think so. She keeps whimpering and sucking her little fist."

Minutes later, the baby was devouring the bottle as Peter and Roman looked on in awe. "After we feed her, we'll change her diaper and put her to bed. I think we all could use some rest," Roman stated.

"I couldn't agree more," said Peter.

After feeding and diapering the baby, Roman settled her in a make-shift bed in his room. "This dresser drawer will have to work until we can get a crib," Roman said as he tucked one of his t-shirts around her to keep her warm.

"Letha had everything for her over at her house. A crib, a bassinet, and tons of little clothes..." Peter spoke. "She loved Cassandra so much... couldn't wait to meet her. That's all she ever talked about."

"I know," Roman said as he dimmed the lights and watched Cassandra drifting off to sleep. He gave her cheek a soft little caress with one finger as he had done so many times with Shelley. How he missed his baby sister.

"I'm thinking of Shelley," Roman said to Peter as they left the bedroom. "I miss her. Is she ever coming home?"

"I believe she will," Peter stated. "You have to have faith."

They were just about to descend the staircase when Roman heard the front door open and close. "You stay up here with the baby. I will see who that is," said Roman.

Peter nodded. "Good luck," he told Roman.


	4. Chapter 4

**~*~Chapter Four~*~**

Peter stood over the make-shift cradle as he watched the baby sleep. Letha's baby was alive. It was a miracle. He could see so much of Letha in her as he stared at the tiny face. Letha should be alive, too. How he missed her.

"I'm going to protect you with my life," Peter quietly promised the baby. "If anyone ever tries to hurt you, I will destroy them."

"You're going to be okay, Cassandra Marie. Roman and I will both keep you safe," Peter whispered as he went to lie down on the bed. He was suddenly exhausted. Losing the woman he loved had completely drained him. Letha had died just before her eighteenth birthday. It was so unfair.

"I never even got to tell you how much I love you," he spoke into the darkness.

As the minutes passed, he faded off to sleep.

_He dreamed of her... of her soft touch. She lay in his arms, her golden hair lying in a soft caress across his chest. "When the baby comes, do you want to get married?" he asked._

A little smile came to her face. Her eyes lit up, and he knew she liked the idea. "I want you to be a father to my little girl," she said. "My baby needs a father."

"But what about the angel?" Peter asked with a frown. "And what if the little girl turns out to be a little boy?"

Letha shook her head as she continued to smile. Lovingly she touched the mound that contained her unborn child. "She's a little girl. You'll see," she said with a sweet laugh. "And I'll always love the angel. Because of him, I will have a precious miracle."

Suddenly then the memory faded...

Peter found himself standing in the waiting room at the institute. He had just been given the terrible news. Letha was dead. She had died in child birth. He choked on his cries as he saw Roman slide to the floor. Roman cried like a wounded animal as he clutched at his chest as though he were trying to hold in the torn pieces of his broken heart.

"Letha... ohhh Letha!" Peter had cried. "It can't be true!"

How could one so beautiful and bursting with life be dead? They had so much to look forward to in their lives. She was only seventeen.

He watched as Roman clawed at the wall and rose to his feet. Then Roman walked out with not even a word. He could barely see Roman's image as his friend left the waiting room; his eyes were so clouded with tears.

How would he go on without Letha? Why did she have to go?

"Come back!" he screamed into an empty white room. Nothing happened, but his voice echoed back at him.

She would never be back. His precious Letha was forever gone.

~*~o~*~

Roman slowly decended the stairs. He stood in the foyer as he saw Norman standing in front of the door. "What are you doing here?" Roman asked.

"I live here now," Norman quietly reminded. "Where is your mother? I have been trying to reach her, but she doesn't answer her phone. It's VERY important."

Roman shook his head. "You aren't going to reach her," he stated. "We need to talk."

Norman stared at Roman in confusion. "Where's Olivia?"

"Come with me." Roman coaxed Norman into the billiard room. They took seats on the leather couch as silence consumed every inch of the room.

"Tell me what's going on," Norman coaxed.

"My mother is dead," Roman said matter-of-factly. "I killed her."

"What?" Norman spoke with confusion. "What are you talking about? You aren't making any sense."

Olivia dead? That just couldn't be true! Norman refused to believe it.

"I had to ... kill her," Roman revealed. "She was evil. You know she wasn't human. Don't deny it. You KNEW it. You were fucking her."

"Roman-," Norman began to protest.

"There's something I have to tell you. I found out... just before she died... I am your child."

"What?!"

"It's true. J.R. was not my father. You are. You are my father."

"My God!" Norman gasped as it all started sinking in. It was as if he had always known, but had been denying it to himself all along. Roman was his son. Olivia had conceived his child.

"That isn't all," Roman said with a deep, heavy sigh. "I have something to tell you... and it's about- about Letha."

"What- what about Letha?" Norman asked, still preoccupied with the fact that Roman was his child.

"Something... happened," Roman spoke as he tried to push the words passed his swollen throat. It hurt to speak of it. He still hated himself for what he had done.

"I was in love with her," Roman confessed. "I always loved her. And... she knew it- my mother knew it, and she used it against me."

"She used her powers, and she forced me to - to appear in Letha's bedroom that night in the form of an angel. I- I am the father of Letha's child. It was me. I am the angel who impregnated your daughter... my own sister," Roman stated as tears filled up his eyes. "Hate me if you want... but it's the truth."

Roman expected Norman to beat the hell out of him... or at the very least scream obscenities at him, but it didn't happen. Instead, Norman was laughing; hysterically laughing. Roman looked at him as though he had gone mad.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Roman bellowed.

"Letha isn't your sister," Norman said. "She ... she wasn't my child. I just found out tonight. Marie told me everything."

"What?" Roman gasped.

"Marie lied. She knew I was ... seeing... your mother. She knew we were intimate... and she didn't want to let me go. She wanted... revenge. She was seeing someone else, and she became pregnant. To keep me from leaving her, she told me we were having a child. I almost left her... so I could be with your mother... but I stayed. I stayed because I thought Marie was having my baby. But the irony of it all is that it was Olivia who gave birth to my child. Roman, you are my son."

"Yes, I am your son. Can you live with the fact that I killed my own mother?" Roman asked. "I HAD to do it. She made me hurt Letha."

"Olivia's really dead?"

"Yes."

Norman sucked in his breath as great pain struck him deep in his heart. The woman he had loved for over two decades was dead. And he had a son. He had lost Letha, the young woman he had loved as a daughter. But he now had a son.

"I knew she was evil. I knew she was capable of bad things," Norman admitted. "But I loved her anyway. I truly loved your mother. I would have done anything for her."

"I know."

"I betrayed my own brother... and my wife. I couldn't stay away from her."

"I know."

"Roman, I am so sorry. You are my son," Norman said as he choked on the words.

"You have a granddaughter, too," Roman revealed.

"But Letha... the baby; they died."

"The baby's alive. She's upstairs with Peter."

"She's alive?" Norman asked.

Roman nodded.

"She's not the only one who is alive," Norman stated. "That's why I have been trying to reach your mother..."

"Who else is alive?" Roman demanded.


	5. Chapter 5

**~*~Chapter Five~*~**

When Norman did not answer immediately, Roman lost it. "Tell me now; who the hell is alive?"

"I got a call from Dr. Pryce after my riveting conversation with my wife. After we had left the institute, Marie and I got into a terrible fight. You might of thought we'd have bonded after the death of our child - after the death of Letha, but no... that's not how it happened. I told her I was leaving. I told her that the only reason I ever stayed was because of Letha ... and that's when she said - she said I was a fool, and Letha wasn't even mine," Norman spoke with tears in his eyes.

"What did Dr. Pryce want?" Roman asked nervously. Flashbacks of the Ouroboros Project and the secrets he had seen at the Godfrey Institute came back to him, but it was only bits and pieces, nothing solid. Just thinking of it gave him a splitting headache.

"Fuckin talk to me!" he demanded angrily of Norman. "Who the fuck's alive?"

"It's your sister, Norman. Shelley's alive," Norman revealed. "She survived the gunshots. Pryce found her and he nursed her back to health."

A terrible pain ripped through Roman's heart. Somewhere deep inside, he had hoped that by some slim chance that Letha had survived, that somehow Dr. Pryce could have saved her as he had Shelley when she had perished as an infant. Tears stung at his eyes, but he didn't want Norman to see them. Shelley was ALIVE... his precious baby sister! How could he ever take that for granted?!

"Shelley," Roman said in a voice full of longing. "I want to see my sister."

"We'll go and get her in the morning, Roman. We all need to get some sleep. This has been the night from hell. Letha's dead. Olivia's dead. The only thing good in this godforsaken day is that Shelley's okay."

"That isn't the only thing. My daughter also survived. Her name is Cassandra Marie."

"Letha. That's what she wanted to name the baby."

"She got her wish."

"I want to see her. I want to see my granddaughter."

"She's sleeping. You'll see her in the morning... and together, we'll go to the Institute. Shelley belongs at home, with her family."

Roman was aching to hug his sister again; to touch her cheek and call her his 'glow-worm.' He was eager for her to meet her niece, little Cassandra, but how would he ever explain? Would Shelley hate him for what he had done? He couldn't bear it if his little sister ever thought badly of him. He'd destroyed nearly everything of beauty in his life, but the bond he had with Shelley was sacred.

"Alright, then. We'll all get some sleep," agreed Norman as Roman turned and headed toward the stairs. "But, Roman, one thing..."

Roman turned to look into the eyes of his father, the man he had always regarded as his uncle. "I forgive you," Norman stated. "I forgive you for... killing - killing your mother."

Roman nodded, not saying a word as he headed up the stairs. He paused outside his bedroom, his hand upon the door. "Peter, I need to talk to you," he called out.

A couple of minutes later, Peter stepped out. "Who was at the door?" Peter asked with sleepy eyes.

"It was Norman," replied Roman. "He says that Shelley's alive. We can go and get her in the morning."

"Where the hell has she been?"

"According to Norman, Dr. Pryce has been helping her recover at the Institute."

"Shee-it!"

"Shee-it!" Roman echoed.

"I'm glad Shelley's coming home. You need her."

"Yeah, I need her," Roman admitted. "But there's something ... something I need to talk to you about."

Peter heard the hesitation in his friend's voice. "Ohhh no, what is it now?" Peter asked because he didn't know if he could deal with anymore major revelations, especially not tonight.

"It's my nature," Roman said as he looked down at his dark leather boot and scraped it's toe against the intricate woodwork lining the hallway. "The nature of the upir."

"Yes?" Peter prompted.

"I've had many lovers, most of them prostitutes..."

"I don't need to hear this."

"Yes, you do," Roman insisted. "You promised you would help me take care of her. You promised to help me take care of Cassandra."

"What does this have to do with Cassandra?"

"I am going to say that Cassandra is my daughter, my child with a prostitute ... if anyone asks. I will tell them that I have custody. But I can't - I can't sleep with all of those women anymore. I need a lover. A permanent lover. My need for sex was great before. Now that I've changed, it's immense. It's extremely powerful," Roman said as he stared deeply into Peter's eyes.

"What does that have to do with me?" Peter asked.

"I want you to find me a lover," Roman stated. "I want you find me one now."

"What? You mean now... like tonight?"

"I will need a lover by tomorrow night," Roman said matter-of-factly. "If I don't have one... something is going to happen."

"Will you rape one of the servants?" Peter asked jokingly.

"This is no laughing matter," Roman said through clenched teeth. "I won't be able to control my lust. I FEED off of it. You WILL find me a lover."

"Or what?"

"Just do it!" Roman growled. "Or you will not like the consequences!


End file.
